


Kyle

by Random_ag



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Heartbreak, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Spoilers, TIoL is a book joey was pressured into writing by nathan arch basically, for The Illusion Of Living specifically, its not much tbh so dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28768977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag
Kudos: 1





	Kyle

He was not called Kyle.

He made that up. Other characters had made up names too, although he did keep some real people’s names and appearances, shuffling them around the fictitious cast.

He was not called Kyle, but he had existed.

He had never even kissed him.

Maybe he wanted to look rough and tough and interesting, with a grey eyed tooth gapped puppy at his leash running to his beck and call, laughing with the embarassment of a teenager on his first real date (although when they went out with each other he was careful to specify to his stupid little dog it was not a date, because it was never a date, according to him), with that ridiculous voice that cracked at even just the prospect of praise and that dark hair that unexperienced hands had insisted of haphazardly cutting short on their own.

Maybe he was curious. About infidelity. About how it would have been like, to give somebody the hallucination of a heart and proceed to skillfully refuse them any more affection, like a captain cheerfully fleeing his ship as it sinks with all passengers inside.

Just to see if he could.

Maybe he was practicing.

Maybe he planned on marrying into some family richer than his already was, and wanted to check if he could hold a relationship up without getting attached to his next source of revenue.

Did he even like men?

He wasn’t so sure of that.

Maybe it was a passing fancy.

Or some kind of experiment.

They had been in that room, and he had laughed about the shoes he had bought him, and he had put on a performance to show off how good he could move around in them with clumsy dances and exaggerated theatrical movements with an orchestra of squeaking leather, and those had been the first shoes that had fit him well, and they had gone out and he had paid for everything, because he could handle that, but what he couldn’t handle was wrapping an arm around him, and kissing him on the head, and talking about him like he was even just his friend, and saying I love you.

The pen cracked in his hand.

He watched absent mindedly as the ink dripped from his fingers without sound.

Joey stood for a moment to get tissues.

Did he cry? When he just went away?

His stupid leg gave in and he fell to the floor. He barely registered it and just laid like a puppet with cut strings.

Did he cry when he got tired of his desperate adoration and stopped talking to him?

Of course he did.

He cried about everything all the time.

Why not about some failed relationship that had never even been real?

They had never even gone on dates.

They were acquaintances.

Acquaintances who went to expensive places together. Bought expensive things for each other. Called each other nicknames. Regularly visited each other’s places.

He wrote as close to nothing about him as he could.

He took all of that selfless adoration he had wasted for nearly two years on a heartless crush, poured every drop of it on Sammy, or at least the version of him he was writing, and exaggerated it to an insane degree.

Fuck Kyle.

Whatever his real name had been.


End file.
